


Ladies First

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Ending, Community: smutty_claus, F/M, Quidditch, Semi-Public Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-04
Updated: 2006-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcus Flint is more patient than you'd think, but he's got limits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ladies First

**Author's Note:**

> Written for smutty_claus 2005 (pre- _Deathly Hallows_ so tagged Alternate Ending). 
> 
> I wanted to write a Marcus who'd been battered by the War, losing his smug/cocky/bullying edge but still intent on getting what he wants.

_More people here than I'd expected_ , Katie Bell thought as she half-listened to George and Oliver's version of 1991, "The Season We Let Charlie Weasley Down". Angelina had said it was just a party to celebrate the end of the season, but it felt more festive than that: partly because the two teams going on to the World Cup were mostly Hogwarts people, and partly because - after the War, and Harry's injury, and He Who Must Not Be Named _finally_ dying - Quidditch had gotten far more important precisely because it was a stupid game that didn't mean much.

Not that you'd hear Katie Bell, third-string Chaser for the Falmouth Falcons, saying that where anyone could hear. She smiled to herself and went in search of another bottle of lager.

"Hullo, Bell. They taking you to the Cup even though you've hardly played this year?"

"Shove off, McLaggen. What are you doing here?"

"General Gryffindor invitation, I'm sure. Team reunions and so forth." He grinned at her.

"Not hardly," snapped Katie. "You got in here just like you got on the team seventh year. Sneaky bastard."

McLaggen pouted. "Aww, Katie Bell still doesn't like me. So sad." He reached to touch her cheek. "And here I always thought you'd be a hell of a shag, with an arse like yours. Still no chance of that?"

She slapped his hand away. "You're drunk."

"Aren't you?" He raised his bottle, his hand only slightly unsteady. "Come on, Bell. No strings. Satisfy ancient curiosities. Get a little on the side." A slow light of realization dawned in his bleary eyes. "Or maybe you're pulling for a transfer to the Harpies? A little girl-on-girl chaser/seeker action?"

"Sod off, McLaggen. Who I sleep with is none of your business, since you'll not be on that list tonight."

McLaggen straightened, then leaned in close enough that she could feel the heat coming off his body. "Just slip upstairs with me, Katie girl. Nobody has to know."

"Unfortunately," a deep voice drawled just behind her left ear, "several of us already do." Katie felt an arm circle her waist. She looked up to see Marcus Flint, smirking as Oliver Wood and Charlie Weasley each took one of McLaggen's arms and escorted him to the door.

She moved closer to Marcus, taking comfort in her teammate's familiar presence. "What are they going to do to him?"

"Invite him to leave. They've been looking for an excuse since he showed up." He pivoted her away from the bar, cutting smoothly through the crowd. "Wood's still a bit protective of you, and he's never liked that bloke."

When they'd passed into the hallway leading to the loo, Marcus stopped and looked down at her. "You're shaking, Katie. What did he say to you?"

"Nothing."

Marcus released her waist and tipped her chin up until she was forced to meet his gaze. "Bell. You can tell me, or I can go and take over from Oliver and Charlie, and let McLaggen tell me himself."

She shut her eyes for a moment. Cormac McLaggen was a loathsome toad, but he didn't deserve Flint in full uproar. He was a bit quick with his fists, and his temper had been notorious even within Slytherin. With a sigh, she looked up again. "What is it ever, when it's a female Quidditch player? It was a clumsy proposition, that's all. I wasn't fond of him at school, and that hasn't changed."

Marcus frowned. "That's enough to set you off-balance like this? You handle drunken idiots all the time."

Katie shrugged, then realized she was still holding her lager and took a drink. "It's just that tonight feels so much like school, and all those old feelings started bubbling up." She looked up and smiled at Marcus. "Except the house rivalries are a little different now, aren't they?" Carefully setting her beer on a convenient little table in the hallway, she slid her arms around Flint's neck. Rising on her tiptoes, she went to kiss him, but was surprised when he turned his head and she missed, catching only his cheek.

"Katie, don't." His voice was rough.

"Why not? We do this all the time."

He untangled her arms from his neck and put them back by her sides, still holding her hands gently. "We do this when you're drunk, Katie girl. You have a few, you decide you want to snog someone, you come find me."

Katie nodded. "It's nice."

"It's not fair," Marcus said softly. "If you just want to kiss someone, Katie, go buy one of those conjured Kissing Pillows from the twins, or take a turn with Oliver or Potter or someone."

"But I like kissing _you_ ," she said stubbornly. "Are you saying I can't any more?"

"Not like this," he said, dropping her hands and turning back toward the party.

Katie felt a sudden flicker of worry. This wasn't the way it normally went between them: a few lagers after a match, some enthusiastic snogging, maybe his hand on her arse, no regrets and no worries, teammates first and always. "Marcus?"

He stopped and turned back, looking at her silently.

She held out her hand. "I'm an idiot, all right? Please don't be mad."

He walked back to her, hands in his pockets. "I'm not mad, Katie. I'm just tired of settling for this."

Katie dropped her hand as she thought about that, then peeked back up at him through her lashes. He was watching her carefully - not angrily or sadly, just waiting. "You - this is settling?"

Marcus sighed and scrubbed his hands through his hair, then shoved them back into his pockets. "Yes. This is settling, Katie. This is you deciding when it's all right for me to hold you and when it isn't, on your terms and your whims. It's not fair, Katie. It's not what I want. Is it really what you want?"

She didn't have to think about her answer. She'd tried so hard to be just one of the boys that she'd pushed her own desires away, but perhaps this was a chance to claim them back again. "No," she said, reaching out for him again.

"I should make you wait," he said quietly. "Until you've had a chance to think."

Katie shook her head and stepped closer to him. "No need." She was startled to feel his hands on her shoulders, spinning her around and pushing her back against the wall, then a soft kiss on her earlobe.

His whisper was dark and shadowed, sending curls of lightning through her stomach. "You need to be sure, Katie girl, absolutely sure that this is what you want."

"I'm sure," she whispered.

"Truly?" There was an edge in his voice and a glimmer in his eyes that reminded her of the days when they were Slytherin and Gryffindor, not just Marcus and Katie. She felt herself slipping into the old habits, wondering what plans he had and how she could defend against them - or if she wanted to defend herself. It was a bit dangerous and oddly intimate.

"Yes." Almost before she'd finished the syllable, Marcus's mouth was on hers. Where their ordinary post-match kiss was playful and friendly, this was brutal and possessive. His tongue slid along hers as he leaned into her, one hand now settled firmly on her hip and the other braced against the wall next to her head. She wrapped her arms around his neck again, returning the kiss with enthusiasm.

Marcus broke the kiss finally, kissing along her cheek to her earlobe again. "Do you want me to stop, Katie?"

She shook her head, not sure her voice could handle speaking at this point.

"Because," he said softly, "you'll have to tell me if you do. You'll have to say 'I want you to stop, Marcus,' just like that. I'm tired of trying to figure you out, so you're going to have to tell me. All right?"

She nodded.

"Say it, Katie." He kissed her softly, then pulled back and waited. She wondered if he'd give in before too long. As the seconds passed, he began to frown and stepped away from her.

"I'll tell you," she whispered hurriedly, leaning toward him and willing him not to leave. "Marcus, please -"

He kissed her again. She could feel his smile curving against her mouth in the moment before she opened to him, slipping her tongue past his lips and exploring what she had thought was familiar terrain but was now something new and unpredictable. Kissing Marcus had _never_ been like this.

Katie was so wrapped up in the kiss that she was startled to feel fingers sliding under the hem of her shirt, slipping across her stomach. She was ticklish enough to giggle, which made Marcus laugh softly in response and tickle her harder before he moved his hand higher, cupping her breast in his hand. Her nipple hardened as it caught on the calluses of his palm, and she gasped as she arched into his touch.

Her head fell back against the wall. Marcus kissed slowly down her neck and along her collarbone, down to the point of her shirt's v-neckline, then across to her other nipple. He mouthed it through the thin material, leaving a damp patch that cooled quickly when he pulled away.

"All right?"

"Yes," she whispered, whimpering as he pulled her shirt up and bent to take her nipple in his mouth again, this time skin on skin. His tongue swirled around the soft peak, matched by his fingers gently rolling her other nipple. She threaded her fingers into his hair, quickly becoming lost in the sensation of his mouth and fingers. An unusually loud burst of laughter, just on the other side of the archway, brought her back to her senses. "Marcus, someone might see...."

She could feel his lips slowly pulling away from her breast. "Do you want me to stop, Katie?"

"No, but -"

"All right," he said quietly, letting her shirt fall back down. The hand that had been playing with her breast slid back down to her hip, and he tugged her shirt into place. "Can't have anyone getting the wrong idea about us, can we."

She frowned and looked carefully at him, unable to tell through her haze of desire and rapidly-disappearing tipsiness whether he was serious. "You think I'd be embarrassed by this?"

Marcus shrugged. "You could have anyone, Bell. Wood, Potter, the Weasley of your choice. Any of the golden Gryffindors."

Katie rolled her eyes and hooked her finger into his belt loop. "Maybe I'm a bit bored with the earnest bravery."

He smiled a little at that, and even more after she pulled him back toward her. She leaned into him as they kissed and felt his arms wrap around her hips. One hand rested on her arse, stroking it lightly. She giggled and whispered, as she licked his ear, "You know that makes me wriggle."

"Why do you think I'm doing it?" His voice was smoky and amused in her ear. He anchored her more firmly with his left arm as his right hand smacked her bum lightly. She squeaked and jumped, then resettled herself against him, newly aware of the bulge in his trousers.

"See what you do to me, Katie girl," he murmured as he slid his hand down across her skirt to her thigh, then slowly back up underneath the hem. He nudged her knees apart with his own, slipping his leg between hers as his hand cupped her buttock. She could feel his fingertips running along the edge of her lacy knickers, from the thin strip of fabric between her cheeks up over her hip and then dangerously close to ticklish territory, and was suddenly very glad she'd gone with the thong rather than the grandmotherly full-coverage pants that were her only other clean set.

With her legs held apart by his thigh, it was easy for him to trace the lacy edge down into the cleft between her legs. She quivered as his fingers teased the little tufts of hair that had sneaked out from underneath the elastic - no matter what the other girls said, she would stick with simple trimming spells rather than subjecting herself to the nearly-full waxes that were all the rage in the locker room right now. Katie Bell did not need a Snitch waxed into her pubic hair, thank you very much. It was almost as if each hair vibrated as Marcus brushed his fingers over them, and Katie thought she might melt without him doing anything more.

Then he touched her, his fingers slipping under the elastic and sliding along the very top of the crease between her labia without dipping in, and she clutched him a bit closer and whimpered into his shoulder.

"You're so wet, Katie," he whispered in her ear, lightly stroking her, a millimeter deeper with each pass. "Do you like me touching you like this? There are people right down the hall, Katie, dozens of our teammates and friends and people we've known for years, and you're back here with me, straddling my thigh with my hand in your knickers, petting you while you make those little noises in your throat...." He cupped her face with his free hand and kissed her slowly, his tongue matching the long languid strokes of his fingers.

When he broke the kiss, Katie fell forward onto his chest, her heart racing and her entire world dissolving into the liquid sensation between her legs. Marcus was right - she was so wet that she couldn't tell where she stopped and his fingers began, only that there was a delicious frictionless sensation and she wanted more. She rocked her hips a bit, trying to get him to speed up, but he kept the same maddening pace, delving deeper into her folds until - at last! - he reached skin again. She whimpered again, trying to wiggle around on his hand so he'd hit the right spot, but this only made him laugh.

"In a hurry, Katie girl? Afraid someone might come past, looking for the loo, and see you this close to coming undone?" He kissed her neck as her head fell back again, his own control temporarily lost as he rocked his hips into hers. "Tell me what you want, Katie," he whispered hoarsely.

She was nearly past coherent language, wanting only for these sensations to build and crest, and so she simply moaned, hoping he'd understand.

Instead, he stopped, pulling his hand back and letting it rest in the crotch of her knickers, stilling his own rocking motion, waiting for her to open her eyes in distress. "You have to tell me, Katie. Do you want me to stop?"

She shook her head, but it wasn't enough.

"Katie." His voice was patient, but clearly it took nearly all his control to maintain that tone. "Tell me, Katie. I'll stop if you want. I'll keep going if you want. You just have to say it."

She scrunched her eyelids closed for a minute, practicing every calming trick Trelawney had ever taught them to get herself under control, then leaned up and licked his earlobe. "Don't you dare stop, Marcus," she whispered. "I want you to keep touching me, and I want to touch you, and then I want you inside me, and - oh!" As she said the last few words, Marcus matched action to guidance and slid two fingers inside her, cutting off any further direction with a searingly hard kiss.

Katie tilted her hips just a bit forward, resting her bum on Marcus's knee so he'd have more room to work. He slipped his free hand under her knickers from the other side and went straight for her clit. His hands set up a rhythm that soon had waves of warm tension building throughout her abdomen. She'd been aroused since the first kiss that evening, but the combination of his fingers pushing into her, more fingers stroking and teasing her clit and labia, the warmth of his leg against her arse, the spiciness of his aftershave, the little smile he got when he was focused on his task: it was all Marcus, it was all perfect, and she had no idea why she'd ever thought she could live with a few drunken snogs once in a while.

She buried her face in his neck, letting the sensations build until that brief moment of stillness and pure centeredness before it would all collapse inward. She had just enough time to whimper before he claimed her mouth again, stifling her cries so that no one would hear, keeping the exact same pace as she shuddered around him.

As her breathing slowed, he slipped his fingers out of her and tidied her back into her knickers, pulling her skirt back into place and slipping his leg from between hers. She opened her eyes, worried that he was going to disappear, and found him watching her again. "All right?"

She nodded, smiling.

"I should go wash my hands," he said, somewhat distractedly.

Katie put her hand on his shoulder to stop him from turning away, then slid her fingers down to twine with his, still puffed and sticky. She raised their hands to her mouth and - so slowly, keeping her eyes on his the whole time - licked herself from his hands, sliding her tongue along each of his fingers, slipping their paired fingers into her mouth and sucking them slowly. She knew the exact instant when he realized she was smiling, the very moment when he knew she was precisely where she wanted to be.

"Katie," he said hoarsely, watching his fingers disappear between her lips.

"Hm?" She slid her hands back up his arms, interlacing her fingers behind his head, and drew him down to kiss her. "Tell me, Marcus," she whispered, and kissed him again.

A great swell of laughter went up in the other room. Two people stumbled through the archway toward them, dripping with beer.

"Oh, there you two are! Angelina's been looking for you, Katie," said Fred.

Harry, who seemed to have misplaced his glasses somewhere, frowned muzzily at Marcus and Katie. "Doesn't look like they particularly want company, Fred my lad."

"Yes, Harry," Fred said patiently, "but they're standing in front of the loo. It's a daft place to stand if you don't want company while you snog. Therefore, they want company _and_ they want to snog."

Harry tipped his head to one side, which seemed to be a mistake as he promptly fell onto Fred. "That makes no sense. Katie's a nice girl. She doesn't want people watching her snog Flint." He smiled brilliantly at a spot just to the left of Marcus. "No offense, Flint."

"None taken," said Marcus with a grin. "We were almost done here anyway."

Fred nodded solemnly and tried to push the washroom door open, but it refused to move. Katie, giggling, reached over and turned the doorknob just as Fred pushed again, causing him to topple over the threshold, Harry close behind.

Katie crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. "You didn't tell me what you wanted, Flint."

He smiled at her. "It's pretty simple, Bell."

"And that is?"

"Someplace that isn't here. No drunken Quidditch players. You." If it had been any other man, Katie would have sworn he was blushing. "Knowing that I'm not just there because I was convenient."

She pushed away from the wall and slid her arm around his waist. "I think we can manage that. But...."

Marcus looked down at her as they slipped into the main room, hugging the wall as they made their way around to the front door. "Problem?"

"Well," Katie said softly, "we only got to the first part of what I wanted. It might take a while to get to yours."

Marcus frowned slightly as he thought back to what she'd said in the hallway. A moment later, a smile spread across his face, and he opened the front door for her. "I'm a patient man, Bell. Ladies first."


End file.
